


A Moose, A Squirrel

by cate-lynne (catelynne)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 08:47:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catelynne/pseuds/cate-lynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader has been living in the bunker with the Winchesters for a while when they discover a habit of hers that kind of…disturbing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Moose, A Squirrel

**Author's Note:**

> I have a moose Pillow Pet named Sammy. He inspired this.

In the library, Sam was leaning over his laptop, reading.  He glanced up at me when I walked in carrying a couple of beers and smiled.  I returned the smile and handed him one of the beers.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

I threw myself into a chair and kicked m feet up on the table, knocking a couple of Sam’s papers to the floor.  He glanced at me with disapproval before picking them up.

“Dean’s been a bad influence on you.”

I shrugged and took a swig.  “So, got anything?”

“Yeah…” he said, turning his computer to face my and clicking on a link. “So get this – fifteen people killed in identical car accidents.  On the same stretch of road.  Same day of the year, every year for the last fifteen years.”

“What are you thinking?  Curse?  Ghost?  Really dormant serial killer?”

Sam smirked at me across the table. “Not sure yet, but if I was going to make a guess-”

“Like you ever guess.”

“-I would say ghost.  I just haven’t been able to find any deaths linked to the area.  At all.  There’s nothing shady about the town.”

“So….road trip?”

~

After the hunt, which turned out to be the ghost of a girl who was murdered by her brother, we made our way back to the bunker.  We were almost there when Dean started with the questions.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Hmmm?”  I was almost asleep sprawled across the backseat.

“Why is your bedroom door always locked?”

“What?” I asked, waking up a little more.  “Were you in my room, Dean?!”

“Hey, calm down, alright?  I wasn’t in your room.  Relax.”

“Good.”  I lay back down.

After a few minutes of silence, though it was Sam who broke the silence.

“It’s true though, (Y/N).  You are kind of…obsessive of keeping us out of your room.”

“And none of the keys or lock picks work.”

“What’s wrong with wanting a little bit of privacy?!”

“Nothing-”

“Why did you want in so badly, then?”

Sam at least had the grace to look ashamed.  Dean on the other hand…

“What are you hiding, (Y/N)?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

At that moment, we pulled into the garage of the bunker and I hopped out.  I left my stuff and sprinted to my room.  I could hear Dean racing after me, Sam calling after both of us.  I ran into my room and turned to slam the door shut but I was too late.  Dean shoved his foot between the door and the doorframe.  No matter how many times I threw myself against the door, it wouldn’t close.

“Dean, just leave her alone!”

“Sam! Help!”

“Come on, Sammy.  Don’t you wanna know what she’s hiding?”

“Sam!”

“Just…just let him in, (Y/N).  He won’t stop until you do.”

“No!”

But I had let my guard down and suddenly Dean slammed his weight against the door, sending me flying backwards and into my room.  Dean was already inside and staring in horror at my bed.  Sam, despite himself, was peeking in from the hall.  But when he saw what Dean was staring at, he entered my room too.

My room was fairly typical of a hunter.  Devil’s Trap rug, guns and salt in easy reach, and lore books all over the place.  The only thing that was out of place was on my bed.  The bed itself was fine.  Memory foam, just like Dean’s, and the best bed I had ever had.  On it, though, were two giant stuffed animals: a moose and a squirrel. 

The brothers turned to me, mouths open. Sam looked confused while Dean…Dean was horrified.  Or disgusted.  Or…something.

“Where…” Sam started before Dean interrupted.

“Where did you get those… _things_?”

“They were a gift,” I said, shifting uncomfortably.

“From who?!”

“From Crowley,” I said in a small voice.

“Crowley!” Dean shouted, storming out of the room.  Sam stayed behind a minute to smirk at me.

“Really, (Y/N)?”

“Shut up.”


End file.
